He watches me, expressionless, as I slip my hand in his and slide out of the seat. He tugs me against his chest, slamming the door closed as he looks into my eyes. He’s assessing me, watching me, and trying to figure me out. This is a man who can look at someone and usually know exactly what they’re thinking.
He can’t figure me out though, not yet at least. I’m sure that he will soon. He’s not stupid, I’m just good at hiding myself, I’ve had to be. In my life, it’s been a requirement.
“Not really.” He chuckles. “Just not sure about you, babe,” he admits.
I’m surprised that he’s said it aloud. Licking my lips, I hold his gaze with my own. “You’ll figure me out soon enough, Mountain. Until then, I’m having fun for the first time in my life watching you try.”
Turning my back to him, keeping my hand in his, I start to walk toward the restaurant. He chuckles behind me, his finger squeezing mine as he tugs me backward. Side-by-side, we walk into the fast food place.
Together we make our way to the register. He orders more food for himself than I can imagine one person eating. Though, since he lives up to his name and is about the size of a mountain, it doesn’t surprise me.
I order a chili dog and a Choco Brownie Extreme Blizzard Treat. I’ve never had either, and for whatever reason, it sounds absolutely forbidden and amazing at the same time. Mountain doesn’t scold my food choices, instead he only laughs as he hands the cashier some money.
Chapter Five
MOUNTAIN
Leighton’s food order surprised me. Also, the fact that she ate every bite of both her chili dog and ice cream shocked the absolute fuck out of me. I would have guessed that she’d quit about halfway into both, but apparently, she gave no fucks and scarfed the whole thing.
It was oddly beautiful, watching her eat. I have a feeling, just by taking her in, that it’s not something she does often, especially junk food.
“You need to get whatever shit you need here. There won’t be many options in town for you to get what you want. Unless you want to order something online, then I can do that for you,” I suggest as we walk into the Walmart Super Store.
Leighton stops, turning her head and tipping it back to look up at me. Her lips are curved up into a small smile. “You really take me for an uppity bitch, don’t you?”
Arching a brow, I smirk down at her. “Babe, if the shoe fits.”
She shakes her head once. “You don’t know anything about me, Mountain. It’s really kind of cute.”
Without another word, she walks over to the carts and grabs one as she makes her way toward the bathroom toiletries. I pause for a moment, curious as to how she even knew where they were located. I don’t have time to stand and contemplate her move, instead, I pick up my feet and force myself to follow her before I lose her in the store.
She starts to put things in the cart, as if she knows exactly what each item is, as if this isn’t her first time in this place. I highly doubt that her father had her go shopping to pick up her own toiletries, let alone that she ever went to a Walmart.
Something is up.
I keep an eye on her, following her as she goes from aisle to aisle. When she makes her way to the makeup aisle and without even looking, she walks straight to a certain area and starts putting items in the cart, that’s when I stop her.
“You’re going to need to explain this shit to me,” I growl.
She slowly turns her head, looking up at me with a feigned innocence and I expect her to spout off some bullshit, but she shocks the shit out of me when she tells me exactly how she knows everything about this big box chain store.
“You should have done your homework, Mountain. I’ve been living on my own for five years, on the run from my father. When I say that you saved me from my nightmare, I mean it. He had just found me and brought me back home.”
I blink. Everything she’s just said to me, it surprises me, and I can’t do anything but blink as I stare down at her. “You were on the run? For five years?” I ask.
She nods her head. “Five years,” she confirms.
“Christ,” I rasp. “A survivor.”
“Not really,” she says, laughing softly. “I don’t know what you call it, but what I did wasn’t even surviving. It was just breathing.”
I take a step toward her, lifting my hand, I cup her cheek. Gliding my thumb across her bottom lip, I watch the plump lip move, unable to take my eyes from it, needing to feel those soft lips against my own. I deny myself the sensation, at least for now.
“Get whatever you need, babe,” I murmur. “Get what you want, too.”
Her lips turn up into a small smile. “Pity isn’t really my thing, Mountain, and honestly, it doesn’t look good on you either,” she states, wrinkling her nose up at me.
Chuckling, I shake my head a couple of times. “Okay, mi reina,” I rasp as I drop my hand from her face. Taking control of the cart, I walk beside her, leisurely strolling as she moves through the aisles.
She asks me a few questions about the club and what she should wear. I don’t tell her that she won’t be going down there if I have anything to say or do about it, so it doesn’t really matter. I’m going to keep her away. The other guys might not have an issue with their women being down there, but I certainly fucking do.
“Just get whatever you’re comfortable in, babe. Not many things to do in Eagar. And there’s nothin’ fuckin’ fancy anywhere,” I inform her.
“Swimming?” she asks.
I imagine her in a string bikini and instantly my cock goes hard. Clearing my throat, I shake my head once. “Don’t know anyone that’s got a pool.”
She wrinkles her nose, too fucking adorably as her shoulders fall. “It’s way too hot here not to have a pool, Mountain,” she announces as she walks through the racks of clothes.
“Sorry, babe.”
She looks over her shoulder at me, her lips twitching into a grin. “Maybe I’ll be able to talk you into putting one in at your house?” she asks hopefully.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I stare at her, keeping my face expressionless. Her hopeful gaze drops at the same time her shoulders do. “Guess I’ll just have to get a kiddie pool,” she sighs.
“Be my guest,” I grunt.
Her lips turn up into a grin and she grabs some scraps of fabric that I assume are bathing suits, her mood instantly uplifted. It doesn’t take her long to grab some tank tops, shirts, shorts, and underthings.
I’m surprised that she doesn’t put up a fight about the clothing options. For a woman raised in a seriously rich as fuck atmosphere, the five years she was alone must have been really fucking rough because she is not complaining one bit.
“You keep watching me, but you look shocked at everything I do,” she points out as we make our way to the electronics.
My eyes travel the televisions, looking for one that will be good enough for me to watch when I’m home with her. The TVs at the clubhouse are top-notch, which is what matters most because I spend, and will continue to spend, the bulk of my time down there. Leighton is just going to be a little something to entertain me when I need a break.